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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861350">Flat Pack</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Womble1/pseuds/Womble1'>Womble1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:34:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Womble1/pseuds/Womble1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Grandma has seen something on pinterest, run and hide</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Flat Pack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grandma had been inspired, she had seen a post online where someone had made use of standard flat pack furniture in fantastical ways to create a “focal point”. To this end she got Virgil to divert the last supply run and include a trip around a well known flat pack furniture warehouse. All this had been fine, there had been meatballs and a cinnamon roll for the journey home. It didn't matter how old the grandchild, a snack always made the journey easier.</p>
<p>Now came the hard part, convincing someone to build it. The picture on the box made it clear that 2 people were required and made no allowances for dodgy hips. But she had 5 chances, those seemed like good odds. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Scott initially showed willing enough, however, a quick survey of the requirements, spotting the predicted build time and amount of parts involved, had him reassessing and delegating with lightning fast agility. He threw the job, with precise aim, directly at Virgil. It's building stuff, a Virgil-type task if ever he saw one, “right tool for the job” and all that, and he retreated at pace. </p>
<p>Virgil rolled his shoulders, pulled out the parts, and promptly decreed that the allen key provided was sub par and the screws not optimum. And off he stomped to get the “right tools for the job”, tossing the instruction manual to John on his way past.</p>
<p>John pulled out the instructions, scanned through them, grabbed a pen and started making corrections, muttering under his breath in more than one language. Alan was sat at his feet knolling*  the smaller individual parts as if he was attacking an epic lego set, his tongue stuck out in concentration as he worked his way methodically across the floor. </p>
<p>Gordon had pulled out the larger pieces, unwrapping them and stacking them to one side. So far he seemed to be making the most useful progress. Then he turned his attention to the boxes, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Quick as a flash he scooped up his cardboard prize and gleefully dragged it out of the room.</p>
<p>Grandma mentally recalculated the expected build time and adjusted her expectations for the final product accordingly. This might take a while. </p>
<p>In this time Virgil had returned with an assortment of tools and associated paraphernalia. He retrieved the now improved instructions from John, scowled at them, and set to work. Two hours later, (30 min build time, my arse) and the unit was taking shape. Virgil had added in some additional supports where he felt the original design was lacking. Brains habit of over engineering having rubbed off over the years. Alan was being used as a gangly prop for the final section and was making his objections known loudly and at length. Finally it was complete and everyone stood back to take in the full majesty of the shelving, storage, display thingie. </p>
<p>Scot had resurfaced sensing that it was finally safe to return. “So where is it going Grandma?” he asked. </p>
<p>“I want it up in the round house please boys” she replied. </p>
<p>Well crap. A beat and then you could see that all Five of them had completed the same mental calculations, taking in the distance, the spiral stairs and the tight corners that made up the route to the round house. They were kicking themselves, not one of them had thought to ask where it was going before the monstrosity had been built. Five minds all bent to the task of finding an escape route and pronto. </p>
<p>Alan was first, youthful agility on his side “I think I should get on with my assignment, don't want to get behind with my studies” not leaving time for anyone to object, he turned on his heels and scarpered. </p>
<p>Scot and Virgil pinned John with their eyes, willing him to tell them of an escalating emergency, anything, they'd take a cat up a tree. John panicked, eyes wide, his world of relaying facts did not often require on the spot fabrication of fiction.</p>
<p>Gordon took the pause for his own advantage “Awwh you guys are great, thanks for offering, I’m going to water my cactus” and he was gone before the remaining three had time to disengage from their own wordless battle.</p>
<p>It was enough to reboot Johns brain though, “Why don't we get Max to move it? Max’s precision obstacle avoidance sensors are far better than Virgils.” for a second Virgil was offended, until he realised that John had just got him off the hook. </p>
<p>John's triumph was short-lived though when Grandma pointed out that she would have to relieve Max from cooking duty, but it was fine because she could do that instead. Virgil sighed and put the box of tools back down. Internally cursing the additional weight his strengthening supports had created, he glowered at Scott to make it clear that he wasn't taking one for the team on his own and started shuffling the chipboard beast out of the lounge. It was an equally dejected Scott that picked up the other end to assist with the slow evacuation. By unspoken consent it was agreed that space wobbly John should be excused from helping for everyone's sake.  He had already taken out a pot plant and attempted to remodel his face with the side of the coffee table since returning to earth. Gordon was still considering bulk ordering bumper guards to put on all protruding edges, but was concerned that the others wouldn't see it as a joke, and more a very practical precaution, which somehow took the fun out of it.</p>
<p>John had been right though, Virgil managed to chip two door frames and scrape a wall, Scott was refusing to take even partial blame for any of the damages. The horror that was the spiral staircase was at least far enough away from the main house that Grandma couldn't hear the wide range of expletives put to use by her Grandsons. Scot was slightly impressed at Virgil's linguistic  inventiveness, having not heard some of those phrases since his days in the forces. </p>
<p>But karma paid off, and they did at least get large slices of cake, that Grandma had no part in the creation of, come dinner time. </p>
<p>*knolling. - The process of arranging like objects in parallel or 90 degree angles as a method of organization. Adam Savage goes into a lot of detail on this subject, give it a google, it is strangely therapeutic even for a non-legoer such as myself.</p>
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